A/N: Yay, chapter 10! I really didn't think that I would even make it this far. Aren't you glad that I didn't leave you like that with the end of chapter 9 over Christmas? Enjoy!

Some nice men helped me carry Erik down to our room. We were sharing a room because Madame Giry had only been able to get two rooms, and Meg had insisted upon sharing a room with her mother. Madame wasn't happy at all, but as soon as she saw Erik, she decided that it was for the best – Erik would need constant care if he was going to live. I never once left Erik's side. As soon as he was laid down on one of the two small beds in the room, I set to work taking care of him, removing his blood-soaked shirt and soaking a cloth in brandy to clean out the wound.

I felt near hysterics at the sight of what Raoul had done to my Angel. Aside from the various cuts and bruises, there was a deep gash running all the way across his chest. I knew that even when it healed it would only add another scar to Erik's already extensively scarred body.

Erik was barely conscious, and probably barely even alive, but he moaned in pain as the brandy stung the gash. It made me cry. I was hurting my poor Angel so much, but I couldn't risk letting the wound get infected – such an infection would surely kill him. I placed my hand on his forehead, caressing his face, whispering promises that everything would be ok. But the worst part was yet to come. Erik had already lost so much blood, and I couldn't get the wound to stop bleeding. I needed to stitch it closed. Why was no one on the ship a doctor? Madame Giry and Meg had asked all the passengers they could when they saw the condition Erik was in, but no one even had any sort of medical training. Could the world really want to take my Erik away from me that badly?

My hands shook as I threaded the needle. I had sewn a little before and had been fairly good at it despite my fear of needles, but this was entirely different. I took a deep breath to steady myself, thanking God that Erik was mostly unconscious at this point and would not remember this. Erik needs this, I repeated over and over in my head. If I don't do this, Erik will die.

"I'm so sorry, Erik," was all I could manage to say before I started stitching the wound. It was over quickly, and it had made the bleeding stop. I breathed a sigh of relief. The rest of his injuries were fairly minor, but I cleaned them out with brandy anyway, just to be safe. Then I wrapped a bandage around the stitched-up wound and very carefully changed Erik into his nightclothes. He was either asleep or unconscious now, but his breathing was much easier than before, and he looked fairly comfortable. I removed his mask and wig and set them on the bedside table. Once I was sure that he was ok for now, I went into the bathroom to wash up.

When I looked in the mirror, my reflection startled me. I looked as exhausted as I felt, which was very. My curls seemed to have developed a mind of their own, wildly disheveled. I was covered in Erik's blood, and there was a large grotesque-looking black and blue mark forming on my cheek where Raoul had hit me. I tossed my dress into the wash basin and washed myself the best I could before changing into my nightgown. When I reentered the room, Erik still seemed to be resting comfortably, or at least as comfortable as possible. I picked up his pocket watch to check the time: 4 am. That was all the persuasion I needed to fall into bed and try to get some sleep.

I slept restlessly, though, nightmares keeping me in that strange state between sleep and awareness. I was running from something, or maybe it was towards something. Either way, something was terribly wrong. My whole body ached and I couldn't breathe. I called out for Erik, sobbing for him to help me, but he didn't come. He was nowhere. Gone.

I woke suddenly when Erik groaned. All of the fogginess of sleep instantly cleared from my mind and I practically leaped out of bed to get to him, even though he was only a few feet away from me. My Angel was awake and in terrible pain, but at least he was alive. For what felt like the billionth time in the last couple days, I cried. But this time they were tears of joy for just seeing him alive. "Erik? What hurts?" I asked, tenderly caressing his face.

"Everything," he groaned.

"Quit being such a baby," I teased him, laughing a little through my tears. I was still just happy that he was alive. Evidently, though, this was not the best thing to say to someone as stubborn as Erik, as he then tried to sit up. He grimaced in pain, and I gently pushed him back down. "Don't move," I warned him. "Raoul cut you really bad across your chest. I had to stitch it up to stop the bleeding."

"How did you manage to get away?"

"I pinned Raoul to the ground with is sword. Well, actually I was trying to stab him, but I sort of missed and just caught the edge of his shirt, and…" Erik was grinning at me in a way that made me think he might have laughed if it wouldn't have hurt him so much. "What's so funny?"

"You were trying to stab him and you missed," Erik repeated, his grin widening. I laughed, suddenly seeing the humor in this. Then Erik grew serious. "Christine, Erik never really wanted you to go back to Paris," he said, weakly reaching up to cup my bruised cheek in his hand.

I realized that he was talking about what he had said to me back at the pier. "I know, Erik," I said as I gently placed my hand over his. "I promise I'll never leave you."

I worked extra hard to get this chapter written so I could leave everyone with a bit of fluff. Please please please please please review! Merry Christmas!